The Graveyard of the Forest
by REMdream
Summary: A short poem I wrote nearly a year ago about how my grandparent's forest had to be cut down. Not much coincidence to Middle-earth except the fact that I may act more like an elf than I give myself credit for. Never had the strength to post it before now. So, hear it is. Check it out if you wish.


Great forest under the moon and sun,  
Oh, how I marvel at what you've become!  
Bark of iron and leaves of green,  
The most beautiful sight I have ever seen.  
But in a moment, you were gone.  
You were my life but now I am alone.

You grew old and weary in your year,  
But even your great oaks, they had to clear.  
Those monsters took the old and the new,  
And they did not leave alive but a few.

So, look out on the land that no man owns!  
For all I see is a battlefield of broken bones!  
A war was waged here against the weary old,  
And yet it murdered the young ones tenfold!

They were my family, and my dear friends.  
Nothing you say can justify these ends!  
My bitter tears will water their grave.  
My breath will give life to the sapling brave.  
And maybe, once upon the future of time,  
That strong forest will again be mine.

I will walk under those boughs again;  
Once they have healed from the work of men.  
Still, it will never be the same.  
I will never hear that forest call my name.

My memories have rotten with that wood.  
My heart has splintered; burned—Should  
I seek revenge for my forest?  
…Should I forget the past and go on. 

Just about a year ago, I wrote this poem. It's about a forest that was over two to three hundred years old; a forest that I practically grew up in. Growing up and watching Lord of the Rings and reading Tolkien's books made me think that forests were incapable of growing old. Of course i knew that individual trees could get old and rot from the inside out, but to me, a forest was a very magical place. However, I was wrong.  
My grandparents owned the forest in this poem and they were told, and noticed themselves that the trees were getting old. They would eventually all start falling and decaying and would be infested with diseases and bugs should they remain there. The only way to avoid the bugs from spreading was to cut all of the trees down in the area, even the young and thriving ones. My grandparents held out on it for three years without telling anyone and in the early autumn of last year they had the whole forest leveled and the trees they couldn't haul out were either strewn about or haphazardly piled together to rot.  
The first time I saw it was on Thanksgiving morning. I couldn't process what had happened. I was in complete shock. Even to the point that I barely remember anything that went on that holiday. Though, I remember walking down what used to be the forest path, feeling the cold bight of the wind on my face, while remembering the calm stillness of winters past in that forest. Naturally, I didn't feel like I had much to to be thankful for that day. I didn't shed a tear, but I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I wanted to scream to shout to cry and blame everyone in the world for what happened, but all I could muster was a fake smile as I listened to my family's happy conversation.  
It took me a full month before the realization finally set in that I would never see those trees again. I broke down crying and didn't stop for hours, and even now as I'm writing this, the tears just keep coming.  
I remember walking down in the woods and hearing the wind rustle the leaves above, and when the wind would blow just right, it would sound just like the ocean waves. The best days of my life were spent sitting down at the creek and listening to the trees and the birds singing high in their branches, or climbing the trees deep in the forest to see how far I could see, or clearing the stream of dead leaves with my cousin so that the water could flow freely again. My heart warms at those memories, but every time I think about what they are now, my heart breaks all over again. It's as if I've lost a very close family member or a good friend.  
I don't even want to visit my grandparents anymore because I might catch a glimpse of what's left. I love my grandparents, I really do. I just wish it was all still there. I wish none of that had ever happened. I wanted to show my future husband where I would walk and go on "adventures", and I wanted to let my kids do what I used to do and explore those woods for themselves! But I suppose that'll never happen now. I just wish I could have at least said goodbye.

Side Note: This is about five minutes after I wrote the short story directly above, and I'm sorry that I dragged you guys into my pity party. This was just eating at me and I needed to vent about it somewhere. Especially now that the holidays are coming up.

Thanks for all of your support.

~REM


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